one day
by Lauriena
Summary: three people thoughts on the day Harper's parents died (borderline R, death of minor characters, mentioned death of original characters, and lots of agst
1. my babies eyes (clara/mother)

Disclaimer- well the characters are all mine but one.  The situation is not mine but the details are.  All I have to say is take/use what you like, leave what you don't.  And remember broke college student, don't sue.

Author's ramble- alright I am not doing Raven comment, I am just suffering from writer's block and well this idea popped into my head.  I will finish Beka's Story, soon I hope!

A/N- lots of name and personalities are made-up.  I think you will figure the rest out.  (Earth, parents, only/last son/child)

**My Babies' Eyes**

~~~*~~~

_My son I have nothing that I can give,_

_But this chance that you can live._

_I pray that we'll meet again._

_Deliverer Us- Prince of __Egypt_

(This lyric is where I got the idea)

~~~*~~~

            I don't know when he finally woke up.  But I can see his eyes starting to open.  He is almost a man.  I couldn't remember his exact age.  Years blended in the camps.  He had to be at least sixteen, maybe a few years older.  Mother's are supposed to know these things but I didn't know how old my baby was, my last living baby.

            The rest of his brothers and sisters lied buried in the mass graves that lined the camp.  I had moved here to protect them but one by one they died.  All but him, and now they wanted to take him away from me.  They would never get my baby.  I would die to protect him like I couldn't protect my other babies.  Sometimes I forget what each individual face looked like.  

Was Nicholas the redhead or was it Krishna?  No Krishna had the same blue eyes as Shay.  Those blue eyes that turns almost aqua when they are plotting something.  No when Shay is plotting.  Krishna doesn't plot anymore.  She died last winter, killed by some unnamed illness.  Illnesses don't have names they all mean the same thing, death.  Death has many names here though.  Neizchiens, Magog, illness, accident, and an accident.  The death stacks up till there are only the dead and the dying.

Why does my baby have to be among them now?  He will go on that ship, he will be taken away.  Soon I will receive a yellow envelope saying that he died.  There will be no reason given.  None needed.  Just a few cruel lines written on that horrid sheet of yellow paper tell all you 'need' to know.  

Why such a bright color to bring the message of death?  Why were the claiming papers green?  The color paper they were now waving in front of my husband.  Green it was once my favorite color but at some point I have grown to hate it.  I hate so much here.  So much has been taken from me.  I will not let them take my last joy.  I will not let my spark of hope be replaced by another sheet of yellow paper.  They will not take my boy.  I promise you this.

He is fully awake now.  How long has he sat there staring at me with those blue eyes, the same eyes as his dead sister.  I can not bear to lose another set of those eyes.  I miss the brown, hazel, and blue eyes that once filled this place.  It was small but not too small.  Now the small size seems too big.  It is wide and open, with too few bodies.  The cold air fills it at night.  They will not leave with him.  I will not live with my last child gone.  I could not stop the ones who went before but I will stop this one from being taken from me.

He is sitting up.  Asking me what is happening with his eyes.  What do I respond with?  I glance at the back of my husband and turn to my son, my last child.  I swallow thinking of my last words to him.  

My thoughts are broken by laser fire.  I turn and look into his eyes.  "Run," He nods and takes off.  He slides through the hole in the back of our home, our shack.  He turns back, asking me why I don't follow.  The guards are entering our house now, stepping over Jonathan's body.  I motion with my head for him to continue on.  His eyes where full of pain but he swallowed and turned and ran.  I looked at the fleeing head of my baby.  Goodbye Seamus, I will always love you.  I then turned and looked into the eyes of the guard that was now standing above me.  "He is free, and he will always be free!"


	2. language of the camp (jonathan/father)

A/N- this one going to be a little ficlit (so was the never ending beka's story) but I had the idea to do it from every persons pov (point of view) and then Parisindy said she wanted to read it from Harper pov.  Anyways my decision was made for me.

Authors ramble-I edited it a little, changed it a little.  

(the name changes are for a reason but they are not the people real names, I couldn't think of any names when I wrote this story.  I really hate the name Margaret but couldn't think of a better one.  So I found a baby book and had fun looking up names, Seamus is a form of James or Jayme.  Bridget means strength or protecting. Better names I thought.  (B4 someone asks Anya-gracious, Nick-victorious people, Clara-clear, bright, Seamus/James-substitute, Andromeda-rescued)

Jayme Francis Harper

The Language of the Camp

~~~*~~~

_Tell me why you are crying my son_

_I know you're frighten like everyone_

_Is it the thunder in the distance you fear_

_Would it help if I stayed very near_

_I am here_

_When the Day is Done_

_Peter Paul and Mary_

~~~*~~~

I don't remember why I wake up at the same time every morning but I do.  No matter how late I had been up the day before I am up with the sun every morning.  Maybe it was because that is when the patrols start.  

I would sit by the curtain that served as the door to our house and watch the guards wander the streets.  I had to stay hidden from their view but years had taught me how to quietly observe people unnoticed.  Sometimes I wonder if they notice us at all.  I think we are just like the flies to them, everywhere, unclean, and useless.  

I guess that is why I was so surprise to see them heading into the row of houses we lived in.  The guards only came in to claim people.  Any excuse and they would come to take someone away to be a slave on a ship.  No one lived for long once they were claimed.  It wasn't slavery on a ship it was death.  Sometimes they just took people, sent them to be 'interviewed' and shortly after they were dead.  It was just an excuse to get at the rebels or get rid of a random mudfoot.  What did they care if they beat an innocent klug to death.

Why did I bring my family here?  The only thing here was death.  I glanced over at my sleeping son and wife.  

Clara was up now her eyes asking me if anything was the matter.  I shook my head as motioned for her to go back to bed.  She shook her head back, she couldn't go back to sleep now.  She nodded towards me asking if I wanted company.  I moved over a little and she sat next to me.  How long had we been conversing without words.  Some would say it was living together for almost thirty years.  In reality talking was dangerous.  Words could be heard.  Codes could be figured out.  So after of life in the camps you stopped talking.  Some of the kids had their own languages in hand gestures.

How could the gestures show so much.  Somehow the words were replaced by simple gestures.  A long sentence was turned into a nod.  A glance now said more than spoken words.  Words were gone; glances, expression, and movements had replaced the spoken word.

Sometimes I could remember when people spoke.  I could remember my daughter Anya laughing.  Her laugher would fill the small shack that was our home.  She was such a happy baby.  From the moment she was born she was daddy's little girl.  She had my brown eyes and hair.  Clara use to call her a little me.  Until the day they took her.  They took away my little girl and the laughter in our house died.  Sometimes I would see the spark in Seamus's or Krishna's or laughter but it was rare.  I never hear a laugh from either.  They laugh silently with their eyes.

Of our five children only Seamus was left, the youngest of the gang.  Maybe that was why he still lived.  Everyone worked to keep him safe.  Nick pushed him out of the way of the slavers guns.  He took the bullet for his younger brother.  Bridget stayed up all night with him when he got sick as a young boy.  In the end she died from some illness as Shay sat by her bed.  All my children were now gone, all but Shay.  

I turned from watching my boy sleeping and back to the guards patrolling the camps.  I saw the green paper in their hands.  They were coming to claim slaves.  I held my breath waiting to see where they were going.  I pointed my head in the direction of the Neizchiens.  Clara nodded looking at the paper.  She looked back at Shay and then me.  Would they take him?  Would they take our last child?  I turned back and shook my head.  She nodded not looking me in the eyes.  We both knew the unspoken truth.

The guards grabbed a young boy by his shirt.  They shouted something at him.  He nodded and pointed at our hut.  They dropped him in the dirt as they walked towards our hut laughing.  The boy saw me and looked me in the eyes.  His eyes said run.  I turned towards Clara.  The horror in her eyes told me she had seen.  She knew just like I.  She went back into the hut and sat down next to Seamus.  He was starting to stir.  I motioned for her to hurry.  That is when I felt myself being lifted up by the guards.

"Who are you?"

"Jayme Francis Harper."

"Is Seamus Zelazny Harper here?"

"He is my son."

"That is not what we asked.  Is he here?"  I knew my next words would decide my fate as well as Seamus.  The wrong word could cost my whole families life.  One of us was going to die or being taken away today.  Why did it have to be Seamus?  I would not let them take him.  I had to tell them that.  But I was no good with words.

"Is he here?  We have papers to claim him for the slave ship towards Parfex."

"I don't know where my son is."

"You lie."  I felt myself being thrown to the ground and pain in gulfed my body.  As they stepped over them I heard Clara cry out "he is free."  He was free, he was alive.  Thank god that one of my children would live on.  With those words echoing in my head I let the darkness engulf me.

~~~*~~~

I wish I could say the right words

to lead you through this land

Wish I could play the father

and take you by the hand

Wish I could stay

But now I understand

Giles

Buffy the musical

~~~*~~~


	3. Where do I go from here? (Seamus/Son)

Authors ramble-I am having a terrible, rotten, no good, very bad day.  (My boss called and said I was suppose to be into work at 2 I have it down as 5), I got another headache from hell today, and the basement smells like my socks and oil paint (guess where the computer is…. Ok I am done now.

Yes I did have fun with the baby book in this chapter to (see the slightly edited chapter 2 note)

Here are some definitions- (not all of them fit) Cecilia-dim sighted, Noah-quiet peace, Bobby-brilliance *cough, cough*, Beka-tied, bound.   Chandler-candle maker, Florence-prosperous, and Brennen means _dirty hair_ (lol) or little raven

*****WARNING*****

**This is the most depressing chapter of the three.  It does have hope but it is about death and grief.  No blood just the story of those left behind.**

Seamus Zealny Harper

Where Do I Go From Here?

~~~*~~~

Fight the tendency to quit while you're behind

Dave weinbaum

~~~*~~~

It's morning already.  I can feel the warmth of the sun starting to fill our small hut.  The winter is still mild.  The small fire is enough to keep away the frostbite but now the sun is here.  Soon I will have to get up and face the day but for now I enjoy the sun as it chases the night chill out.  I will have to get up soon.  There is no time to stay in bed.  Soon my mom will be waking me up, tell me to go get the water.  I will have to walk up to the stream today.  All of the snow is now gray, brown and yellow.  There is nothing that is clean in the camp.  Even getting water I have I have to walk to the source of the stream where it first runs under the fence.  Before the trash and waste of the camp has been drained into it.  It still is brown though.  We will have to boil before we can even think of using it.

Bren likes to talk of spaceships were people just use a tap to get clean fresh water.  There is no point to dream of spaceships.  The only way a mudfoot gets into space is as a slave and then you are dead before long.  I would stare at the stars as a young boy back then they held promise.  Hope of where I could go; now I don't look.  There is no escape from the camp.  You live and you die.  I go on raids with Bren but I didn't believe we were really doing any good like he did.  Earth was a death trap.  

I would die here and be buried with the rest of my brothers and sisters.  I would be buried out there with Nick.  Why did Nick die instead of me?  The bullet was for me.  I should have been shot but no Nick had to be the big brother and save me.  Kris, Nick, Britt, and little Anya were all dead.  I was the only Harper child left and soon they would come for me.

I had been id, not like they ever needed that to come and get me though.  They had captured Cecilia on the last raid.  After they beat, tortured and raped her repeatedly she gave in.  She tried only giving the names of those she thought had been killed.  She had seen the uber aiming at me as they grabbed her.  She didn't know they got Nick instead.  Soon I would be joining him though.  Nick gave up his life for nothing.  When they let Cecilia go to have us kill her for her betrayal, she told of what she had done, with tears pouring down her face.  She then ran out of the hut we were in straight towards the fence.  It took a single shot for the guards to kill her.  Now Noah, Chandler, Florence and I all lived with a death sentence over our heads, till they came to claim us as slaves and beat us to death.  

I will be the last of this generation.  Soon all the Harper children will be buried at the fence.  Was it just last week we buried Nick?  How so would it be before my parents would have the yellow paper in their hand saying I was dead?  Was it just last winter that Krishna died?  Was it three Britt finally came down with her final cough, no I had just had my twelve birthday, so it was five years ago or maybe four, I can't remember?  I stopped keep track so long ago.  The days and years blended and all I know is that I am still alive.

Soon they would take me away like they did with Anya.  They dragged her away as she kicked and cried.  I remember her face, her blood stained clothes and how her hair looked red it was so caked with blood and dirt.  At night I am sometimes haunted with that night.  Her eyes beg me to save her.  I was so helpless that night.  How could a five year old protect his sister from a Neitzchien?  I still wish I had fought that night.  Brothers are supposed to protect their sisters.  It's every brother's job not just the older ones.  But I couldn't stop it.  In the end it was the two boys and now it is just me.  

The house changes after each death but the first one changed it the most.  I can still remember the laughter in my dreams.  That night the laughter died.  The night the first of us died.  The years may blend together but I remember each face, each death.  I wonder if my parents can take one more.  It won't be long before they come with the green paper.  The yellow page with my name on it probably has already been typed.  

I just lay on the floor I don't want to deal with today.  I don't want to deal with my death.  I don't want to face the empty room that will greet me.  I don't want to think that I now have my brother's and sisters' clothes and blankets keeping me warm.

I crack my eyes open to see how much longer I can say asleep.  My mom is sitting in front of my bed looking at me.  My father is talking to some Neizchiens I can see the paper in their hand.  I know it is my time.  I look at my mother.  I can't explain I can't find the words; there are no words at a time like this.  I don't need to say anything though; she says it all for me, "run."

She has said it so quietly I don't know if I have heard it.  How can I run from the ubers, if I run, if I escape I will have no where to go.  But I can see it in her eyes.  She is not going to let me be taken today.  I nod and go out the small hole in the back of the hut.  I turn back to her.  I can't just leave.  Who will die in my place this time?  She just gives me a half smile.  I know now, it will be my parents.  I hear my mom cry out and it is cut short my gunfire.

I don't think I knew where I was running.  I just ran.  I don't remember being stopped by Bren.  I don't remember being hidden in his hut.  I know I went on raids.  I know I built shrillers, designed and built simple weapons and started working at breaking into the uber supplies.  It was around the spring I decided to try it.  I got some spacer to help me.  He said he would pay me and give me free passage off earth.  The fact was I didn't really care.  All I wanted to do was hurt the ubers.  I didn't feel anymore.  All I felt was hate and I didn't care about anything else.

We got the weapons to the ship and took off.  As I looked at earth I knew I had gotten off.  I was free from the hell hole.  I was the last of my family but I was free.  It was with that though I passed out on the ships deck.

I thought I was in heaven when I woke up.  I had to have been lying on a cloud.  I couldn't sit up but when I brought my hand to my face I could see that it was clean.  If I could just move maybe I would see them.  Maybe there was an afterlife and I would see my family again.

"You're awake kid."  I heard a voice said.  It wasn't any of my family's.  The hope I was feeling left my heart.  I was alive.  A redhead appeared in my line of sight.  "You know when people are hit by laser fire they normally don't just walk around dripping blood until they pass out on my decks."  Where was I?  I felt my stomach start to come up.  Before I could swallow and kept it down I threw up all over the place.  The women just swallowed, put one arm under me and lifted me to my feet.  She led me into a small room.  She put me down on a strange chair bolted to the floor.  "Think you can stay sitting on your own kid.  I started to nod but the movement made me light-headed.  She smiled and reached behind her keeping one hand on my shoulder.  She had a cloth in her hand when she turned back around.  She then turned a knob and water came rushing out of a fountain, fresh water like Bren use to talk about.  I was really here, among the stars.  The spacer that had hired me appeared behind the women.

"Beka what are you doing."

"What I need to do Bobby."

"You don't know what he's got."

"No but I know he is sick and wounded.  He helped us Bobby and now he needs our help."

"Just dump him out an airlock, his mudfoot."

"No, he is a member of this crew now."  With a grumble the spacer, Bobby I guess left.  Beka turned back to me and started wiping the vomit off of me.  Tears silent tears started pouring down my face.  "Kid you ok?  You're not in any pain are you?    Come on kid, if I am going to help you you have to talk to.  Come on give me a nod at least" I nodded through the tears.  No one had cared for me like this in years.  Mom had tried but she was too busy trying to keep us alive.  Britt use to stay by my side but now she was dead.  

I couldn't talk.  I couldn't explain the tears.  The first ones I had cried since I was a little boy watching my sister being dragged away.  Maybe it was all the pain, all the death, all the memories finally coming back to me.  Maybe it was all the feelings of the last year coming back to me.  Maybe it was because I had found someone who cared for me and an afterlife, my life after all the death of earth. (*There's your hope*)

~~~*~~~

Sometimes people leave you,

Halfway through the woods.

Do not let it grieve you,

No one leaves for good.

You are not alone,

Truly no one is alone

Baker's Wife

Children Will Listen

Into the Woods

~~~*~~~


End file.
